No Rhyme Or Reason
by The Resident Artichoke
Summary: Cato was raised to kill ruthlessly and die honorably. That was his purpose. His reason. But lately, he began to question himself. Maybe his purpose wasn't to die but to live for someone else? Peeto oneshot


**AN. This is my first Hunger Games fanfic and I am a bit nervous since this is a new fandom and it's been a very long time since I've last read the book :) So this is a short Peeta/Cato moment. It pretty much explains how Peeta ended up with the careers. Please review if you liked it. Feel free to report any grammatical errors and inconsistencies.**

**This oneshot is for my friend who loves Peeto** _**way **_**more than I do and is celebrating his birthday today! Happy Birthday!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. If I did a certain handsome guy from District four would have had a beautiful, happy ending. Everything would have been so anticlimactic. Be glad it's not mine ;)**

* * *

Cato leaned up against the tree, inhaling the calming scent of the woods. Patches of red and yellow wildflowers grew near the small body of water that they have been drinking from. Part of him wanted to slaughter his allies that evening. They were all sleeping soundly, practically begging him to murder them. Maybe he could let Clove live, she was the only one who understood him, being also from District two.

Suddenly, he just wanted all of this to be over. He trained all his life for this. He was trained to kill. And he didn't mind killing, in fact there had always been a thrill that came with hurling spears and swinging swords to draw blood from a victim. But killing came with the danger of being killed, especially now in the arena where they were supposed to be eliminating each other. Dying wasn't so bad as long as it came with pride and honor. That's all he lived for anyway. Well, that was before.

There was a rustling of leaves. He could have sworn he saw a flash of blond hair running between the trees. He silently willed his heart to be still. "Peeta?" he softly called. There was no response. Listening, he made his way towards where he thought he would be. He grinned as he caught sight of his feet. Cato then lunged forward and caught Peeta by surprise.

Of course he struggled. Cato honestly had a hard time keeping him still. "Let me go!" he shouted, cursing him.

"If you don't stop yelling like that, the others would wake up and gut you like a fish," he whispered firmly.

"Just let me go and I swear I won't hurt you," he held a knife to his arm. Cato threw the knife several distances away.

He turned back to him. "You can't _hurt_ me with a knife. It is best not to struggle, if you want to live," he turned him over and pinned him against the tree. They were facing each other now. "I could help you."

"Why would you?" he asked, keeping up a façade of bravery.

"Listen, Clove will taking the next watch. I'll tell her that we could use you to get to the girl from your district. That's also what I'll be telling the others in the morning."

Peeta gazed up to him in horror. "Katniss? No, y-you can't get to her. I don't even know where she is."

"Don't you think I know that?" He snapped at him. Sighing, he faced him again. "Just lie, all right? That will keep you alive with us."

"Why are you helping me, Cato?" Peeta asked, exasperatedly.

For a second, he loosened his grip on him. That would have surely given anyone a chance to escape. But he didn't. Even as he moved away from him, he stayed and waited for his answer. Cato ran his hands through his hair, pacing and fighting with himself.

"Have you ever felt like, you had one purpose in life and now you just can't do it?"

Peeto thought for a moment. "I'm sorry, Cato. I don't really know."

"Maybe it's because you live in twelve. In my home, we were raised to kill ruthlessly and die honorably. That means I have to die in battle one day. That's what we all long for. That's what I longed for..."

Silenced passed between them. Neither of them moved. Finally, Cato's legs gave in and he sat down. Peeta sat with him. That surprised Cato. Peeta knew Cato left his weapons but he still hadn't run away. He was glad he didn't though. That would have broken him.

"So you don't want to die anymore?" Peeta asked, startling Cato.

He shook his head. "I guess I found another purpose. A reason to go on."

"Well, I guess that's a good thing."

Cato smiled. He had no idea. He rested his head on his leg. There was just enough moonlight to see that there was something different with Peeta's hand.

"You're hand." he pointed out.

Peeta chuckled. "Tried to become a tree. No one passed by though."

"That's amazing. How did you do that?"

Peeta stood up, a confused look on his face. No one was stopping him. He can run. But he just stared at him.

"No, why are you here, helping me?" he asked again.

"I..." What was he supposed to say? Why was he even asking? He just wanted help him! "So you could stay alive."

It should have been obvious for him. Why can't he just understand?

"_Why?_"

He watched Peeta retreat, three, four, five steps away from him. Panic rose up to his chest. "Well, I.." He wanted to tell him but his look unnerved him. This was scarier than being held up over boiling water by his fingers.

"You're from district two, after all, and I'm just from twelve. You can kill me easily," As he spoke, Cato tried to stow away all his internal struggles and breathe.

"Peeta-" he started softly.

"You have me. Congratulations! Now, what do you want from me, _two_? Why are you helping me?" Peeta questioned on. He winced as he called him by his district.

He was impossible! Trying to remain calm enough not to strangle him, he clenched his hands together behind his back. He took a tentative step forward and he moved away.

Cato rolled his eyes. "Peeta, enough. I'm not going to kill you."

"How can I be sure if-" Cato immediately cut him off.

"You wouldn't still be here if you knew I was going hurt you!" He glanced back at his companions, making sure they were still fast asleep. "You _know_ that I am unarmed. I don't have any weapons on me.

Peeta didn't say anything to that. Both of them knew he was right. Walking closer to him, Cato watched as Peeta's eyes narrowed to him. He still didn't move. He looked panicked, grimy and tired but handsome nonetheless. His blond hair was swiped down with sweat over his very blue eyes. Cato bit down a grin.

"Peeta, I want to help you. I want you to join us, so I could keep track of you as much as you let me. Please, just say you'll stay," he said the last part, barely above a whisper.

Something changed in his eyes. "Why?" he asked, his voice straining. He cleared his throat and repeated with more strength."Why, Cato?"

He closed the remaining distance between them. He let a finger trace the thin wound on his face, as he looked adoringly into his eyes. If someone were to tell him months, days, hours ago that this would happen, he would have laughed and possibly inflicted some kind of injury on that person. He shook his head lightly, not believing himself.

"Why else should I help you?"

With all the courage he could summon at that time, he cupped his face and softly leaned into his lips. He felt him relax and for a moment, respond to his actions. Cato paused only to gaze back into his eyes.

"I love you."

He knew there was a voice inside him telling him that he shouldn't. He knew because there was one inside him too. But they just stood there with each other, occassionally laughing when insects would land on their noses, as the internal battle went on. This wasn't meant to be and they both knew.

They would never have a future but as long as Peeta did, Cato was fine. And he could just keep him alive and that will be his reason.


End file.
